


Status: Pending

by celtic7irish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Get together fic, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: Tony is irritating.  Bruce is patient.  Jarvis just wants Tony to stop distracting him.





	Status: Pending

**Author's Note:**

> For the Science Bros Week 2017 Prompt: Pending

Tony scowled at the holo display, silently willing it to process faster.  Nothing changed, the stupid word blinking innocently back at him in blue.

 

_Pending_

“Staring at it isn’t going to make the scan run any faster, you know," Bruce informed him from the next table, his tone faintly amused.

 

Tony moved his glare over to the other man, who stared back at him unperturbed.  “Why aren’t you more concerned about this?” he demanded, spreading his hands wide in emphasis.

 

The corner of Bruce’s mouth quirked upwards, and Tony gave a silent cheer.  It was rare that Bruce smiled, so Tony got a secret thrill whenever he managed to draw one out of the other man.  Laughs were like striking gold.

 

“I am concerned,” Bruce reassured him, “but you still can’t make it run any faster.”  He paused to reconsider.  “Well, you could,” he amended, “but that would risk the integrity of the scan.  Or lead to cascading failure,” he added direly.

 

Tony scowled at the reminder, turned to look at the screen again.

 

_Pending_

“But I’m bored,” he whined.  “I’ve got all of JARVIS’ processing power on this, so I can’t even run the simulations.”  He could work on the armor, of course.  Or any one of half a dozen unfinished projects for SHIELD or SI, but nothing was calling to him right now.  Ergo, he was bored and had nothing to do.

 

Bruce shook his head.  “It won’t do any good to run simulations before the scan is done, anyhow,” he pointed out.  “Why don’t you go get some real food? Or call Pepper? Or take a nap?” he suggested blandly.

 

Tony pouted.  “I’ve got food right here,” he replied, pulling a pack of dried cranberries out and waggling them at Bruce before opening them and tossing a handful into his mouth.  He offered the packet to Bruce, who accepted the offering like he always did.  Tony grinned.

 

“Pepper is on a well-deserved vacation.  She also told me very firmly not to call her unless aliens were invading again, and sleep is overrated,” he ticked off.

 

Bruce sighed, but didn’t offer up another suggestion.

 

Ignoring the holo screen, which hadn’t changed in the last two minutes since he’d last looked, Tony asked, “JARVIS, how much longer is this going to take?”  There was a brief pause as JARVIS rerouted some of his processing power to answer Tony’s question.

 

“Estimated time until completion is two hours, fourteen minutes, and twenty-three seconds,” JARVIS replied.  “Provided that the scan is allowed to run uninterrupted,” he added archly.  Tony made a face at that; it wasn’t his fault that JARVIS’ power and memory banks were limited right now.  A pair of super soldiers had somehow managed to take out an entire floor right on top the AI’s servers.  Tony just really wanted to know why the fuck they’d been down that far to begin with.

 

So now JARVIS was running on minimal power via backup generators , and Tony couldn’t restore him until he found the problem that had resulted in JARVIS blinking out entirely for over four hours and closed the breach.  Until he had proof telling him otherwise, he was blaming everything on SHIELD.  Resurrecting frozen super soldiers, hacking his system, practically throwing brain-washed ex-Hydra assassins at him, SHIELD was a fucking menace to society.  Maybe Steve had the right idea, tearing the whole thing down.

 

He sighed, settling on his lab stool and dropping his head onto the table with a dull thud.  “Bored,” he reiterated, just in case Bruce hadn’t understood the first time.  He was hard of hearing sometimes.  “Bored. Bored. Bored.”  Each word was emphasized with another thump.

 

It took him a moment to register that his head was no longer connecting with the hard surface below him, and he turned his head to smile beatifically up at Bruce.  “Oh, hello!”

 

Bruce just gave him what he liked to think was a fondly exasperated sigh.  “Come on, Tony.  Let’s give JARVIS some time to work in peace, hm?” he suggested.

 

Tony twisted around on his stool until he was facing the other man.  He cocked his head to the side.  “JARVIS can work just fine with me being here,” he argued.  “J, how much time?”

 

“Two hours, seven minutes, forty-two seconds,” JARVIS answered perfunctorily.  Bruce just gave Tony a look, and the engineer sighed.

 

“Fine,” he grumbled.  “But I really hope you’ve got something better in mind than sleep,” he added with a grimace; he wasn’t tired, and even if he was, with JARVIS otherwise occupied, he couldn’t allow himself to relax until they were safe again.  Never mind that he was currently in a building inhabited by the entire team of Avengers, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be doing _more_.

 

Bruce just gave him a vague smile, his cheeks reddening slightly, which immediately made Tony both suspicious and intrigued.  Bruce definitely had something in mind, and whatever it was, it was enough to make him blush.

 

Tony followed Bruce out of the lab, shoving down the small bit of hope that was starting to bloom somewhere deep in his chest, swooping low in his stomach.  He’d been flirting with the other man for months now, trying to get under his skin.  Clint was convinced he had a death wish, and Steve had lectured him about deliberately provoking Banner.  Tony wasn’t stupid; he knew the Hulk could crush him with minimal effort.  But he also knew that Bruce had a lot more handle on the green giant than he was willing to admit.  Part of Tony was pretty sure that Bruce oversold the big guy just so people would leave him alone.  Unfortunately for him, Tony was pretty immune to leave-me-alone vibes.

 

Regardless of who was right, Tony had been pursuing Bruce for the last several months, and he was pretty sure that Bruce had started to return his interest.  Maybe that was wishful thinking.  But now, Bruce was suggesting they find something to occupy themselves with while JARVIS ran his scans, and he was blushing, so perhaps it wasn’t as farfetched as he had thought.  Or maybe Bruce was going to suggest that they watch some lame chick flick and hope that Barton didn’t walk in on them.  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.

 

Tony realized that Bruce was watching him, a vaguely puzzled expression on his face, and Tony smoothed his own expression out into a smile.  “Sorry, just composing my strongly worded memo to Nick Fury regarding appropriate use of SHIELD technology.”

 

Bruce raised an eyebrow.  “I thought you started that particular battle,” he asked, making it sound like a question.

 

Tony shook his head, following Bruce out of the elevator and onto the common room floor.  “Nope, that was all Fury.  Remind me to tell you about it sometime,” he said lightly, remembering coming home and finding JARVIS silenced and Nick Fury standing silent and creepy in the living room.  It was not a pleasant memory, following so closely on the heels of Obie’s betrayal and subsequent death.

 

“Sounds like quite the story,” Bruce mused, rummaging around in the fridge.  Tony leaned on the counter.

 

“It is,” he agreed.  “And why are you making food? I thought we agreed no food.  You promised,” he accused.

 

Bruce glanced back at him, setting ingredients on the counter.  “We didn’t agree to anything.  You said you weren’t hungry.  I, however, am quite hungry.  Therefore, I am making food.  You may eat it or not as you please,” he hummed, turning back to the counter to make preparations.

 

Tony grinned; trust Bruce to find a way to make Tony eat whether he wanted to or not.  Tony wasn’t stupid; Bruce made the best food, probably from all the traveling he’d done while on the run.  Tony kept the Tower well-stocked, but he was pretty sure that even if he only had beans and toast, Bruce could make something delicious and filling.

 

Bruce set a bowl of vegetables and a cutting board and knife on the counter in front of him.  Tony sighed, but moved his hand away from the StarkPad he’d been reaching for and instead reached for the vegetables, cutting it into tiny slices for Bruce.

 

“So, tell me more about the pain suppression system.  You recently upgraded it, right?”  Bruce asked, which set off a rather fun discussion as the two men debated the merits of various drug combinations.  Tony preferred drugs that actually did what they were supposed to; Bruce advocated a much safer, but slightly less effective concoction.  There were merits to both, so the two of them had settled on a compromise – Tony gave Bruce a list of whatever drugs he had in his suit, and Bruce didn’t tell Steve.  It was a truce they could both live with.

 

They moved smoothly from one topic to another, wandering off on tangents and back again.  That carried them through a quick meal, settled on bar stools and devouring chicken and vegetable rissoles.  Before Tony realized what was happening, Bruce had neatly chivvied him to the couch in the living room, and nearly an hour had passed.

 

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, adroitly ignoring the look that Bruce shot him. “Fifty-eight minutes, thirty-two seconds, sir,” the AI answered.  Tony sighed, sinking lower into the couch.

 

“You know, bothering him won’t make the scans run any faster,” Bruce pointed out. Again.

 

Tony shrugged.  “No, but it gives me something to do,” he mused, slanting eyes at the other man.  “So unless you’ve got a better suggestion, I’m probably just going to keep bothering him,” he admitted unapologetically.

 

Bruce huffed a laugh, leaning his head back against the cushions.  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked with a sigh.  Tony opened his mouth – whether to answer honestly or crack an inappropriate joke, he wasn’t sure – but Bruce cut him off.  “Did you know that Clint theorized that you deliberately annoy people when you’re worried about them?  He’s a bit put out that you mostly ignore him.”  But he was smiling as he said it.

 

Tony huffed a laugh.  “I don’t know whether to be turned on because you’re talking theories, or annoyed that you think bringing up Clint is in any way helpful,” he grumbled.

 

Bruce shifted slightly, his leg brushing up against Tony’s knee.  “Clint also seems to think that your obsessive need to taunt the Other Guy is indicative of a death wish.”  He seemed amused.  Tony raised his eyebrow.

 

“And what’s your theory, Doctor Banner?” he murmured.

 

Bruce chuckled lowly, and Tony felt a pull low in his stomach.  If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know what he wanted Bruce to say.  He wasn’t really sure which one would be worse – for Bruce to acknowledge his interest and turn him down nicely because he didn’t feel the same way, or for Bruce to acknowledge his interest and turn him down because the Hulk was too dangerous to risk it.

 

Bruce considered him for a long moment, and Tony tried his best not to fidget.  Just as his fingers started twitching nervously, Bruce’s gaze softened.  “I think you’re afraid that I’ll refuse you, and that’s why you poke.  It’s safe, and it shows your interest without risking anything.”

 

Tony grimaced.  He wanted to argue, but he really couldn’t, because Bruce was essentially correct.  For a genius, he was rather stupid when it came to relationships.  Which was probably why he’d only really had one meaningful relationship in his life.  Two, if one counted his long-standing friendship with Rhodey.  Pepper had told him that he tended to self-sabotage.  He called it self-preservation.

 

“So…does this mean you’re not going to refuse me?” he asked instead, going for a joking tone but falling flat to his own ears.  “Because that would be, like, amazing.  I mean, not that you turning me down wouldn’t be amazing. Or, well, it wouldn’t be, really, but it’s fine, it would be fine, because you’re still the only person I can talk science to, and this won’t change that.  Or rather, I hope it won’t. But – mmph!”

 

He wasn’t entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth – he tended to talk without a filter most of the time – but he found his words suddenly muffled by another pair of lips on his.  He had about half a second to process that it was Bruce kissing him, here in the Avengers Common Room where anybody could walk in on them, and then he was groaning into the other man’s mouth, his arms reaching up to wrap around Bruce’s neck.  He tipped backwards on the couch, dragging Bruce with him, not breaking the kiss.  Clint could suck it.

 

Tony opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking along the seam of Bruce’s lips.  His hands tangled in Bruce’s curls, careful not to pull – he finally had the other man where he wanted him; the last thing he wanted was for the other man to push him away because he got a little grabby.

 

Bruce kissed like he did everything else – carefully, as if he was afraid that he might break whatever he was touching.  His hands were placed on either side of Tony, not touching him, his weight carefully held up and away.  Bruce’s lips parted, and Tony took shameless advantage of the opening, licking his way into Bruce’s mouth with a pleased hum.  He tugged lightly on Bruce’s hair, trying to pull the other man closer, but Bruce resisted, so Tony arched upwards instead, pressing as much of his body against Bruce as he could.

 

Bruce pulled back, breaking the kiss, and Tony whined, trying to follow him up.  “Tony,” Bruce muttered, smiling into the kiss Tony pressed to his mouth.  “We’re in the Common Room.”

 

“So?” Tony mumbled petulantly.  “You started it.”  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Bruce’s throat, his hands shifting, sliding down Bruce’s arms to grip haphazardly at his forearms.  “If you didn’t want anybody to see us, you shouldn’t have kissed me in a public space.”

 

Bruce’s eyebrows rose.  “Well, I can’t really fault your logic,” he admitted ruefully.  Tony couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit smug at the admission.  His pride must’ve shown plainly on his face, because Bruce laughed.  “No need to be so smug about it,” he admonished lightly, one hand stroking over Tony’s nipple almost absently.  Tony arched shamelessly into the touch, suddenly deciding that there were far more interesting things to do with his mouth than banter with Bruce.

 

Tony’s hands slid down Bruce’s sides, tugging at his pale yellow button down shirt until he pulled the shirttails out of the khakis.  His hand sweeping across newly bared skin, Tony tilted his head to get a better angle and pressed a kiss to the warm column of Bruce’s throat, feeling the other man’s pulse with lips and tongue, carefully working the flesh in his mouth to coax blood to the surface.  The bruise wouldn’t’ last long – Bruce healed more slowly than Steve, but the mark would probably still be gone by the morning – but there was a part of Tony that wanted to leave his mark on the other man, to tell everybody that Bruce was his.

 

Bruce made a low noise, more of his weight settling onto Tony’s body, his hands shifting down to grip Tony’s hips, which Tony heartily approved of, twisting underneath the other man until Bruce’s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, touching bare skin.  Bruce shuddered above him, and Tony batted his eyes at him, having pulled back to admire his work. 

 

“Sneaky,” Bruce accused him with a grin, his hands shifting upwards, rucking Tony’s shirt up under his arms, warm fingers against his ribs.  He scraped nails lightly back down Tony’s sides, making the genius groan appreciatively, his body finally taking notice to what was going on.  One of Bruce’s hands slid across his Toy’s nipple almost absently, the touch sending a jolt that went straight to Tony’s cock, making him buck, his hands spasming where they were placed against the curve of Bruce’s spine. 

 

“Shirt, now,” he demanded, his hands already fumbling with the tiny, stupid buttons on Bruce’s shirt.  Why hadn’t the other man been a bit more thoughtful in his apparel choices?  A t-shirt would’ve been a much better choice.

 

Bruce pulled back, and Tony made a frustrated noise of protest that died when he realized that Bruce was still crouched above him, his knees on either side of Tony’s thighs while he managed the buttons himself.  Tony contented himself with touching every piece of skin he could reach as it was revealed, watching in fascination as Bruce’s hands fumbled, his stomach muscles twitching in response to a particularly sensitive caress.

 

Delighted, Tony scratched lightly over that same spot, listening to the pleased rumble Bruce made.  He hadn’t even known the physicist could make that kind of noise.  He did it again, and Bruce retaliated by grabbing his wrist and licking a long stripe down the underside of his arm.  Tony couldn’t help the giggle that escaped – he was ticklish right at his wrist.

 

His free hand abandoned Bruce’s chest so he could cup the man’s jaw instead, pulling him into a deep kiss.  He made it as filthy as he knew how, using lips and tongue and teeth to map out the inside of Bruce’s mouth.

 

HE kissed Bruce as if he might never get another chance, as if he’d die if he didn’t.  Arousal took a back burner to his need to kiss Bruce, to let the other man know how he felt, even if he never spoke the words.

 

Tony whined when Bruce pulled back an indeterminable amount of time later, his hands flexing where they’d landed on Bruce’s shoulders.  “No,” he protested as Bruce sat up and scooted backwards until he was next to Tony rather than on top of him.  “You’re not supposed to pull _away_ from a kiss!”

 

Bruce huffed a quiet sigh, trying to straighten his clothes, which Tony also wanted to point out was, in fact, the exact opposite of what he should be doing right now.  “Time’s up,” he said softly.  Tony frowned.  Had there been a time limit?  If so, he was pretty sure that there should be an argument against that.  And he’d think of it, in just a moment.

 

“Sir, you wished me to inform you immediately when the security breach was found,” JARVIS interrupted smoothly.

 

Tony groaned.  “Seriously?” he demanded.  “We’re doing this now?”  Bruce’s lips twitched upwards in a smile as he ran a hand through his hair, delightfully rumpled, his lips still red and swollen from their impromptu make-out session.  Tony couldn’t help the thrill that went through him at the sight.

 

“Let’s go get JARVIS back up and running, shall we?” Bruce asked evenly, not even sounding out of breath.

 

Tony frowned, but reluctantly agreed.  “Fine, but when we’re done, can we do this again?” he asked, gesturing between them.  “I mean, whatever this is?”  He knew they’d have to talk, as much as he’d rather just…not.  Then again, “Uh…what is this, actually?” he asked as he moved forward, well into Bruce’s personal space.

 

The other man looked at him blankly.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify,” he replied.

 

Tony frowned; Bruce was going to make him say it, wasn’t he? Of course he was.  “I mean, was that whole….thing just a huge distraction? Or are we a couple now?  Boyfriends?  Ugh, cliché, I know.  Partners? Lovers?  I need to know what’s going on,” he insisted.

 

Bruce smiled at him, then leaned in.  Tony’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes crossing to stare at Bruce’s mouth, which was…saying something.  Tony blinked, his genius brain taking a few seconds to catch up.

 

“Status pending.”

 

Before Tony could marshal his thoughts to come up with a very good reason why that wasn’t an acceptable answer, Bruce was gone.  Tony hurried after him.  Bruce had stopped to wait for him by the elevator, and as Tony slipped in next to him, Bruce gave him a quick kiss, blushing afterwards. 

 

Tony grinned.  Status pending, huh?

 

He could live with that.

 

 


End file.
